


The In-Between

by Amariahellcat



Series: Kissing Turians [4]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biotic Shepard, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Honeymoon, No Shepard without Vakarian, Palaven, Paragon Commander Shepard, Post-Mass Effect 2: Arrival, Pre-Mass Effect 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amariahellcat/pseuds/Amariahellcat
Summary: They’ve dropped off the rest of the Crew. Broken off ties with Alliance. Restocked as well as they possibly can at the Citadel. It’s time to go dark, to spend what time they can on Palaven.A short honey moon, admittedly, but better then none, before they have to prepare. The Reapers are coming, but they have a little time.Those brief moments In-Between.Part 4 of the Kissing Turians AU.





	The In-Between

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap I finally finished this part. This is more a transition between Missing Pieces and the upcoming ME3 shenanigans then anything else, but hopefully you guys will still like it. Proves I haven’t completely disappeared, right?? 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! ♥

Palaven looms ahead of them, and Arisa bites her lip; staring out at the unfamiliar planet with a nervous sort of hope twisting up her insides.

She stays in the cockpit until Joker gives her a  _look_  and asks her to ‘Please stop  _lingering_ , Shepard, you’re making me antsy. I’ve got this.’

He does, she knows that, so she nods sharply and does an about turn, marching out through the empty CIC and making a beeline for the elevator, chased by the strange silence of the ship.

Arisa stops short in front of the elevator doors, hesitating, glancing around at the empty room again, mind interposing the images of the crew over their vacant seats.

The doors hiss open and Garrus steps out, giving her a knowing look and saving her an explanation by holding out an arm. He jerks his head to the side, mandibles flaring, “Want to take a wander?”

_He knows me too well_ , she thinks fondly, looping her arm through his and letting him lead, taking a tour of the ship she knows by heart, made completely foreign by the absence of its crew.

Mordin’s lab is as pristine as ever, Jacob’s haunt in the armory cluttered with the weapons they’ve acquired on the journey.

Down to the Crew Deck - where the sight of Dr. Chakwas fixing herself a coffee gives Arisa a momentary repeal from the sadness, soon chased away by the emptiness of the other rooms.

No Samara or Kasumi in the observation decks, no Thane in life support; Garrus catches her glancing at the Battery with a smirk, tugging her gently onwards as if to say  _I’m here and I’m staying. We’re in this together._

Down another deck - Grunt’s haunt is eerily silent, Zaeed’s much neater than it had been during his stay, and she doesn’t even want to go down to the subfloor, to see how utterly  _lifeless_  it is without Jack sitting there with a scowl.

Gabby and Ken are a brief, welcome distraction - even as Arisa notes Tali’s absence.

It wasn’t as though they were really  _gone_ , though. Not on the Normandy, yes, but not out of reach, either. They’d all had family, or jobs, or other duties to attend to.

No, this mission was personal. It belonged to her, and to Garrus - and to the small group of friends they’d kept with them.

_You’ll see them again. Soon._

_“Commander, twenty minutes till we Dock,”_  comes Joker's voice over the comm, snapping her from her thoughts,  _“Better get ready, looks like there’s a few people waiting for us.”_

“Thanks, Joker.”

Garrus tugs on her elbow again, mandibles flickering in a nervous grin, “You ready for this?”

“Ready as ever.” Arisa pulls him down, plants a kiss under his right eye, and smiles openly, “Time to suit up.”

* * *

 

 Arisa can’t help the nerves fluttering around her stomach when the Normandy’s hatch hits the ground with a soft  _thunk_  and the welcoming party becomes visible, forcing herself to walk confidently forwards at Garrus’ side.

She’s in full armor, helmet and all - there’s no point in getting a radiation suit when her armor is ten times better at handling it - and she can only hope it won’t give off the wrong idea.

_They know you’re military. They know you’re a Spectre. It’s logical, right?_

Two Turians stand ahead of the others, closest to them, and Arisa relaxes slightly when she recognizes them - even had she not seen them previously on vid screens, she’d have known them immediately by the Vakarian Markings adorning their plates.

“Garrus.” Castis greets, nodding, before turning his gaze on her, “Commander Shepard. Welcome to Palaven.”

“And welcome to the  _family_ ,” Solana’s mandibles are flared wide as she steps forwards, surprising Arisa when the turian takes both her hands and  _squeezes_ , a gesture of familiarity that makes her relax further.

“Thank you Castis, Solana.” Arisa returns the grip and then returns her attention to the senior Vakarian, “As you’ll recall, sir, I have four crew members remaining on board the Normandy, as per the last email I sent. They would prefer to remain on the ship, as they have been; otherwise, I entrust any necessary maintenance to Palaven’s care.”

“Very good, Commander. I have already made the proper arrangements with the docks. Your ship will be well taken care of.” Castis pauses, and Arisa would almost swear he’s wearing the Turian equivalent of a wry grin, “Now, eager as I’m sure you both are to unpack and relax… there are a few others who wished to meet you.”

Garrus makes a curious noise, and Arisa notes him glancing over his father's shoulder and then stiffening, “Is that…?”

“Primarch Fedorian, yes.” Castis nods, looking incredibly pleased, “And General Adrien Victus, with his son Tarquin. They’ve heard stories of you, Commander, and with all the work we went through to  _get_  you here… they were curious.”

_The Primarch wants to meet me. The fucking Primarch of Palaven wants to meet **me**._

Arisa shoots Garrus a look, feeling suddenly ill, “ _How_  important did you say your Clan was, Garrus?”

“Er…”

“Cmon, it’ll be fine.” Solana’s laughing, and Castis looks damn amused, and Arisa tries to breathe, nodding at the younger Turian.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

_Please, Gods, Spirits, whatever, please don’t let me mess this up._

* * *

 

 Meeting the Primarch had - surprisingly - gone without a hitch. Fedorian had been briefed about her by Castis, and he was both perfectly polite and incredibly  _generous_  in his offers of assistance.

“Anything you need, let me know. Gaining another Spectre for the Hierarchy is a victory, but you’ve done far more than just earn your stay here, Commander. I’d say that deserves a little reward.”

General Victus and his son were likewise courteous, Adrien taking a slightly less formal tone once Fedorian had left; flaring his mandibles in a smirk and giving Garrus a look. “Nice catch, Vakarian. Looking forwards to working with you both, in the future.”

“You’re on board, then?” Garrus’s tone gave little away, and Arisa had watched Victus carefully, analysing.

“Better to be well prepared for an enemy we may never see, than to sit idle and be caught unawares.”

It had been a quick, smooth meeting, and the trip to the Vakarian house was just as smooth - they’d be staying there for the time being, as Arisa didn’t want to  _truly_  think about ‘settling down’ until the Reapers were  _finished_.

No, it’s only when Arisa starts unpacking one of her bags and comes across the little box from Liara that she hesitates, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

Her dog tags gleam in the light of the room, almost accusingly, and she bites her lip.

“Arisa?” her husband's smooth purr in her ear and his arms around her waist snap her back to reality, leaning eagerly into his warmth, “Are you alright?”

“It feels… strange.” Arisa admits, huffing out a content sigh when she feels him rest his chin on her head, mandibles stirring her hair, “I’ve been  _loyal_  to the Alliance since I joined… even working with Cerberus, I still… it’s just…”

“I know.” Garrus says, holding her closer, and the tension runs out of her, dropping the dogtags on the bed so she can turn to face him, returning the embrace.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she mumbles, and Garrus hums happily, bending to press their foreheads together.

“Plenty of things. Still don’t know what I did to deserve  _you_. In any case,” Garrus runs a hand along her arm, talons dragging lightly, “What’s say we think about the serious stuff later, and actually  _enjoy_  our little break, huh?”

“Talking honeymoon, hubby?” Arisa purrs back, a weak attempt at the noise that he loves anyways, “I’ve done some research, looks like there’s a couple of low-radiation beaches around…”

“I’m game. Let’s go. Before any  _more_  officials can show up to stall us.”

* * *

 

 They spend two weeks on one of those previously researched beaches, Arisa donning a bikini when they’re out on the beach and developing a tan for the first time in years - laughing later at the bikini-shaped tan marks left behind.

Garrus takes great joy in exploring those differing patches of skins once they’ve retreated to their rented beach house for the night, and if they spend more time in the house those two weeks then actually on the beach, neither’s complaining.

* * *

 

 Two months after arriving on Palaven Arisa snaps awake with a scream dying on her lips, eyes wide and chest heaving.

She pushes onto her elbows, swallowing thickly and blinking into the near black of the room, calming as her vision slowly adjusts to the darkness.

There is nothing lurking in the room, she knows. The Shadows are mere leftovers from the nightmare, casting shapes that her mind twists.

Familiar furniture. Familiar sounds. Familiar darkness. And yet…

Garrus grumbles at her elbow, one long arm snaking out to wrap around her waist and pull her back down.

Blue eyes peer down at her, tired but alert. “Bad dream?”

“Nightmares.” the images flash again and she snuggles into him immediately, pressing herself as closely as she possibly can. His keel bone digs into her a bit but she doesn’t care, only feeling better when he hugs her tight and hums questioningly against her head.

Garrus doesn’t say anything else for several moments, only continuing to purr and hum, sub vocals crooning and vibrating through him and into her, and eventually she relaxes, sighing and slumping into him, the now familiar tones soothing her more then anything else could.

“Arisa?” he asks after a while, no trace of drowsiness left in his voice, running a taloned hand up and down her back.

“They’re coming.” she says, and the way he tenses tells her he  _knows_  what she means.

“I guess the honeymoon’s over?” he rumbles against her, a low growl to the words.

“We need to start preparing. We need to be  _ready_ , Garrus.”

“I know. We will be. I’ll talk to my father in the morning and get things rolling with the Primarch. But for  _now_ ,” his sub-vocals go lower, humming  _calm_  and  _love_  at her, hand rubbing over her back again, “Go back to sleep. We’ll need a good night's rest before we go back to protecting the universe.”

“I knew I married you for a reason.” Arisa mumbles, his chuckle the last thing she hears before his movements put her back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day! ♥


End file.
